


Easier With You- I'll go in if you will

by lasersheith



Series: Easier with you [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, PTSD, pre slash, shiro whump, veterans keith and shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 11:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14354169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/pseuds/lasersheith
Summary: Part 1 of "Easier With You"Shiro's just returned back from the military, having been medically discharged from service after losing his arm. Matt is his best friend and is trying his best to help him deal with the loss. He convinces Shiro to go to a VA support group that will end up changing his life.





	Easier With You- I'll go in if you will

**Author's Note:**

> I started a drabble from a prompt about Shiro and Keith accidentally getting matching tattoos and now I have an entire elaborate series of headcanons about how they met and fell in love. I'm not sure how often I'll update the series, or if I'll ever finish it because it's kind of intense to write. But this is how they met.

Matt walked into the room quietly, lightly wrapping his knuckles on the edge of the door as he passed. The pile of blankets shifted a little, but didn’t move much. “Hey, buddy,” Matt said softly as he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand towards the middle of the pile. “You gonna get up today?” He rubbed his hand over what he was assuming was a back, but it could have just easily been a stomach. The blankets shifted more and a greasy mop of mostly-black hair peeped out, followed eventually by most of a head. 

 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Shiro grumbled out, not quite meeting Matt’s eyes. His cheeks were puffy and red and Matt was pretty sure he was wearing the same shirt he’d seen him in the last time he’d ventured into the kitchen. That was almost 3 full days ago. 

 

Matt pulled the covers down a little farther, hoping to coax him into sitting up at least. “Well, no pressure, but that support group starts in two hours.” He said, attempting a gentle tone. 

 

Shiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t know…” He trailed off. His right shoulder twitched and clenched his teeth. He ran his left hand through his hair, pulling out the strands that knotted. Matt winced but Shiro didn’t. 

 

“I think it might really help.” Matt’s voice came out a little more insistently. “You know, get you up and around, out of the house a little.” Shiro’s jaw was still clenched tightly. “When’s the last time you got some sun, man?” Matt asked with a small chuckle. 

 

The hard edge didn’t leave Shiro’s eyes. “The 8th.” He replied in a sharp whisper. Thinking about getting out of bed, showering, putting on clothes, eating, walking to the VA, being in a room full of strangers for an hour, and then walking back had his heart racing. Matt had a look on his face that Shiro knew well, however, and he didn’t see a scenario where he could talk his way out. “I’ll get up and shower. Then we’ll see.” He relented with a sigh.

 

Matt smiled and patted his left shoulder. Shiro tried to keep himself from flinching, but he couldn’t help but twitch at the contact. Matt’s smile faltered a little. “Hey, baby steps.” Shiro nodded. “Let me know if you need any help.” Shiro watched as he stood up and left the room. 

 

He felt like there was a ten ton weight on his chest. Like getting out of bed was physically impossible. He tried to stuff down some of the anger he knew he was mistakenly directing at Matt. Matt was his best friend and had done everything he could to help Shiro after their deployment had gone wrong. His medical discharge had been a no-brainer, but Matt had to fight tooth and nail to get his own hardship discharge paperwork through. If his father had been anyone else, it probably wouldn’t have. 

 

The real problem was, Shiro didn’t have anyone else. They both knew it. Matt was too kind to say it and loved his friend enough to stick by him and take care of him while he recovered, but it just wasn’t sustainable. The only people he saw outside of Matt and his family (more and more rarely, these days) were doctors. He’d been meaning to go to the support group ever since he’d been released from the hospital months ago, but it just felt… too hard. 

 

He shook his head and forced his feet to the floor. Sitting and ruminating wasn’t going to help him. Maybe Matt was right and he’d feel better if he could just make himself accomplish something, anything. The twinge of anger flared again. Matt had walked away with bruised ribs and a small mark on his cheek. Shiro hadn’t walked away at all, and he had to clutch at his face as he remembered the searing heat of shrapnel all over his body as he pushed Matt to the ground before falling himself, the grit of the sand scraping his abused skin as Matt and another soldier dragged him somewhere to be safely medievacced. He breathed in and out as deeply as he could. Everyone told him how lucky he was to be alive. He looked down at the spot his right arm abruptly stopped. He didn’t feel very lucky. 

 

The doorway was only a few steps, but they felt like miles. The quiet in the hallway set his nerves even further on edge. He left the bathroom door open a little, just in case. The water in their house heated up quickly and almost never went cold on him, so he took his time trying to wrestle off his sweaty clothes one-handed as the bathroom filled with steam. It was an exercise in frustration that always left him feeling raw. The humiliation of having to ask his best-friend-turned-nurse to help him undress was far worse, though. They’d learned that quickly. 

 

The steamy water felt like heaven on his dry, dirty skin. He let it run over his face and down his sore body for several long moments before picking up a bottle of shampoo. He was able to get the lid off by holding the bottle in between his knees. He squeezed them together when he had his hand lined up to catch the soap that spilled out and it mostly worked. His hand ended up full of shampoo but the bottle slipped and clattered to the tile. He left it. He started working the soap into his hair as well as he could when he was interrupted by a concerned voice. “Hey, I heard a bang, you ok?”

 

Matt had popped his head in the door, but Shiro couldn’t see him through the curtain. “Yeah, just dropped the shampoo.” He mumbled out over the water. Matt tapped on the door as he pulled it further closed again. 

 

“Ok. See ya in a bit.” He called as he walked down the hallway. Shiro sighed. They’d been meaning to install the motion activated soap dispensers for weeks, but Matt wanted his help and he still hadn’t felt up to it. He glared at the bottle at the bottom of the tub as the soap ran into his eyes. It hurt but not enough to spur him to action for a while. He managed to dip his head into the stream of water and get most of the shampoo out of his hair. He grabbed a washcloth and used the residual suds to wash the rest of his body until he lost his patience. 

 

He turned the water off, feeling better from being clean, but he knew his frustration had only just begun. He toweled himself off as well as he could manage and looked at his reflection. The only thing he could see for a few seconds was the flash of angry pink across the bridge of his nose. At least most of the bruising was gone. His face was littered with stubble, but shaving wasn’t even in the same solar system as  _ possible _ today. He brushed his teeth for the first time in days and grimaced at the feeling of the foam running down his chin. 

 

He left his dirty clothes on the floor and walked back to his room to change. Sighing as he struggled to pull on underwear and pants over his still damp skin, he wanted to crawl back into bed. One look at the grimy sheets had him pulling them off in frustration. The mattress ended up lopsided on its frame in his wake. 

 

Matt heard the thumping and ran into his room with concern written all over his face. He saw the pillows that had been thrown to the floor and the blankets in a pile next to them as Shiro looked up from ripping the final corner of the sheets from the mattress with tears in his eyes. Matt approached slowly, hands in the air showing his palms. “Hey, hey, you’re ok. Talk to me.” He coaxed gently. 

 

Shiro tossed the sheets to the floor and looked at the wall. “They were dirty.” He gritted out between clenched teeth. Matt grabbed the first shirt he saw hanging from Shiro’s open closet door and handed it to him. 

 

“I was gonna wash some stuff later, I’ll toss them in.” He said with a sad smile as Shiro pulled his shirt on. He stared at the empty right sleeve. 

 

“I can wash my own sheets, Matt.” He grumbled as he collected the pile from the floor and stalked out of the room. Matt sighed. He followed him down the stairs to the laundry room and watched as he struggled to stuff the fabric into the washer. He tossed a pod of detergent into the middle of the drum and slammed the lid before jabbing the start button with much more force than necessary. 

 

Matt huffed a little. “Do you feel better now?” He asked pointedly, nodding towards the abused machine. Shiro’s anger left him almost immediately and he could feel his face heat. 

 

“I… I’m sorry.” Matt shrugged and tossed his head to the side dismissively. He started walking out of the room and Shiro followed him, shoulders sagging with guilt. “I’m gonna go.” He finally forced out. Matt stopped at the top of the stairs but didn’t look back at him. 

 

“Good. I think that’ll really help.” He went back to busying himself in the kitchen as Shiro stopped and looked around, suddenly feeling lost. “You should eat before you go, though. Maybe drink some water.” Matt nodded to a bowl of soup that he’d set out on the table and the full glass next to it. 

 

Shiro walked up behind and rested his hand on Matt’s shoulder. He looked up from the tablet he was reading the recipe off of with a smile. “Thank you. Really.” Matt couldn’t help but laugh at the serious tone in Shiro’s voice. 

 

“We’re brothers, man. You’d do the same if it was me.” All Shiro could do was nod. He sat down and started spooning the soup into his mouth on autopilot. He didn’t know if he could do what Matt was doing if their roles were reversed. He knew he’d try. He was under no illusions that he was easy to live with- he’d be fine for a few days and things would be seeming to get back to as normal as possible and then he suddenly couldn’t get out of bed for days at a time and was moody and angry. The bowl of soup was empty much sooner than he expected. 

 

He looked at the clock and sighed. Just under an hour. It was a ten minute walk. He drained the glass of water. Matt smiled as he saw Shiro slip his shoes on and put his his wallet in his back pocket in the reflection of the stove. Shiro turned towards him. “Hey, have you seen my phone?” Matt nodded toward the window sill where it sat, plugged in. 

 

Shiro grabbed his leather jacket out of the hall closet and slipped it on. Colleen had pinned the sleeve shut for him as soon as he got home even though it was the middle of the summer. He mentally reminded himself to thank her tonight as he put his phone and keys in his pocket. “I’m gonna go walk around a bit before I head to the meeting. Do you need me to take anything for your mom?” 

 

Matt shook his head. “Nah, saw her yesterday. Thanks, though!” He called cheerfully as he mixed. It looked like some kind of muffin. Shiro smiled and hoped it was chocolate chip. 

 

His momentary respite into a good mood floundered as he walked. He was going to be really early. His fingers fiddled with his phone in his pocket. A sudden urge he thought he’d kicked after basic hit him as he passed a convenience store. Stopping in front of it, he looked inside. A bored teenager stood leaning against the counter by the register, absorbed in her phone. There were no other customers. 

 

He went in and quickly made his purchase: a pack of menthol cigarettes and a cheap lighter with the local sports team’s logo on it. The first puff made his head swim. The tenth made his chest ache. He sat outside on a bench and smoked, trying not to think, just letting himself exist in the moment. It sounded like a crock the first time he heard it, but anything was better than where his head had been. 

 

Half a pack of cigarettes and fifty minutes went by somehow lightning fast and the slowest Shiro could ever recall time taking in his life. He walked the remaining two blocks stone-faced, trying to slow his rapid pulse. The nicotine probably wasn’t helping on that front. 

 

He paused at the front door and pulled another cigarette out of his pocket. The meeting was supposed to have started 5 minutes ago. He tried to flick the end of the lighter, but the breeze blew it out before he could get his cigarette to light. He thought about going home. Pulling it from his lips, he took a deep breath. “Need a light?” He heard a voice ask from somewhere behind him. He turned. 

 

The man in front of him looked about as friendly as Shiro felt. His tight jeans and red motorcycle jacket were certainly nice to look at, but they had nothing on his face. His eyes were so blue they were almost indigo, but they were set deep in a heavy frown. Shiro tried not to gawk as he held out a fancy zippo lighter with the ace of spades emblazoned on the side. “Thanks. Damn wind.” He murmured as he finally lit his smoke, it was awkward to lean in as far down as the guy was holding it, but the flame was wind resistant and Shiro was desperate to have an excuse not to go inside yet. 

 

He lit his own cigarette and stood against the wall next to Shiro in silence as they both smoked. Shiro had to laugh to himself a little bit as he mused that this might have been the most comfortable he’d felt in weeks. “Somethin’ funny?” The guys asked as he stubbed the butt out on the ground. Shiro shrugged. 

 

“Just life.” He answered. “I’m Shiro by the way.” He held his left hand out for a handshake and tried to keep himself from grimacing at how awkward it felt. 

 

“Keith.” The man replied. Somehow it suited him. They shook hands and then looked at anything but each other for a moment. Keith crossed his arms and looked over at where his motorcycle was parked. “Look I don’t wanna be here either, but I’ll go in if you will.” He finally mumbled out, staring at the bike. 

 

Shiro smiled softly. “Works for me.” They both made their way to the door. Shiro held it open and let Keith pass before looking up at the sky for a brief moment and following him inside. 

  
  



End file.
